Ambition and Bravery
by Drawinganimemaster
Summary: Heather Chandler survived an encounter with Voldemort at a young age. Her parents, war hero's in the Wizarding World, died protecting her and the world from darkness. Despite his death, Heather has always felt like Voldemort was still out there. As Heather digs into the lies of the past, her hunch continues to grow as forces are petted against her the closer she gets to the truth.
1. Rivals

**Ambition and Bravery**

**CHAPTER ONE: _Rivals_**

* * *

"Hey, watch where you're going!"

Heather fixed the deranged first year with a stare cold enough to freeze lava. But the boy didn't shrink under her gaze. Instead, his lips curled up into a snarl. He took a step closer with his wand drawn. The girl beside him, another first year it seemed like, stopped him from getting too close.

"What?" the boy snapped. "She just bumped into me without apologizing. No manners this one. I bet she's a filthy mudblood, my father told me—"

The girl whispered, "That's Heather _Chandler,_" with a shaky breath.

An unbelieving laugh echoed the empty hallway as Heather detected a familiar pattern. She chose to let this one go and instead continued her brisk pace to her charms class.

She knew how this would end.

"Wait," the boy's voice held a tremor. "…you're serious?"

Heather didn't care about listening to the rest, instead, she made a sharp left around the corner. A quick glance to the clock, hanging above the paintings, who were silently berating her for her tardiness, let Heather know she was too late for it to be fashionable. Heather was going to skin Duke alive if Professor Fleming used her tardiness as an excuse to pull her from the game tonight.

Even though Heather had a list of cruel and unusual things she could do to Duke, her friend had actually done something useful for once. So, Heather wouldn't be too hard on her if things turned out poorly tonight.

Nearing the door, Heather fixed her hair, looking blown by the wind, and adjusted her dark green robes before she made her entrance. Professor Fleming was in the middle of explaining a new spell to the class. Heather took advantage of her Professor being distracted and snuck to her desk.

JD caught her eye over his shoulder. His leg bounced nervously as his gaze went from Professor Fleming to Heather. It wasn't until Heather made it to her seat, without incident, did JD relax.

"Late again Miss Chandler," her Professor said with too much glee, turning around to face Heather with a measured look. "What's your excuse this time?"

Heather felt a smart reply, burning on her tongue, but she kept her cool. Tonight was far too important to ruin just because of her lust for stirring up chaos.

"I lost track of time. My apologies Professor."

Heather's mother was probably turning in her grave with how polite Heather sounded.

And as time passed, Professor Fleming made Heather a bit worried. Her professor stared, as if analyzing the sincerity of Heather's apology. But, deep down, Heather knew she was off the hook. Professor Fleming knew Heather never acted out on Friday nights. Even the class, whose eyes were usually locked on Heather, anticipating her next move, restless for excitement, were dull. Her classmates barely spared her a glance, choosing to focus on learning more about the spell for today. They all knew Heather was smart, no, she cared enough not to get in trouble today. It also helped that Heather knew Professor Fleming was a Slytherin at heart and rooted for them at their games.

And how could Slytherin win tonight without their best player (never mind what Ram thought)?

"Don't let it happen again." Professor Fleming let her off easy. "But, since I have your attention, why don't you help Miss Sawyer with this question."

It took everything in Heather to stop herself from laughing.

"What does the charm, aguamenti, do?"

Heather answered, "It summons a jet of pure water. Depending on what the caster wants, it can be a simple jet or even a large wave."

Heather could understand the rest of the class not knowing about it; they've been restricted from learning about complex charms until their upperclassmen courses arrived. Heather only knew about it because of her time spent reading about charms and spells during her summer break while JD slept his days away, dragging her to the store where he fed his unhealthy obsession for slushies.

But Veronica was a muggle born.

Veronica should be able to use critical thinking to at least create a valid assumption for what the spell might do based on the name alone.

"Correct," Professor Fleming wasn't surprised. "Ten points for Slytherin."

"Nice!" Ram cheered loudly, only to shrink down when their professor sent him a look. "Sorry…"

Heather leaned her face into her palm and watched Veronica scribble nonsense into that stupid diary of hers (it was a journal, but Heather loved getting Veronica riled up when she used the wrong term).

They called her; Veronica Sawyer. But Heather had a couple other names for her; like, know it all.

Veronica was also a sixth year, regarded as one of the brightest witches of their age, and she drove Heather crazy. She couldn't stand Veronica's do-good behavior. Veronica walked around like she was better than everybody just because she knew things they didn't. She never failed to challenge Heather in the classroom or on the quidditch field.

Veronica was her rival.

Heather would never tell Veronica this because someone can only have a rival if they have respect for the person or if they see them as a threat to their position. No, she couldn't let Veronica, of all people, know she felt threatened by her.

Most of the time, when Veronica wasn't rambling about nonsense, she was off defending her best friend, Martha Dunnstock, from bullies. Heather often watched from the side as Veronica foolishly inserted herself where she didn't belong, getting hexed and charmed, left and right, in her failed attempts at defending Martha.

In short, it seemed Veronica never learned her lesson; some fights were to be left alone. But Heather expected nothing less from a Gryffindor; they were fools, the lot of them.

"You see it too?"

Heather mumbled, "What?"

"Veronica's been distracted lately. I'm sure she would have answered the question right," JD gushed.

Heather dumped her head into her folded arms and pinched her eyes shut. She could feel a lovesick rant coming along.

"Hey, you're not even listening."

"I am." Heather felt bad and sat up to give him her full attention. "What is it?"

JD waved off the subject, grabbing his wand instead, "Forget it. You're not into the fine details so I'm not surprised you haven't noticed."

"What does _that_ mean?"

JD laughed, "For one of the brightest witches of our age, you're oblivious to human behavior. Remember when that upperclassmen, Mark, had a crush on you? He flirted with you so much, but you didn't know until I told you. And by then it was the end of the term and he was graduating."

"Please," Heather denied the truth, "I knew…"

"Try that again without having your voice waver."

Heather shoved him playfully, "Shut up, idiot. Just tell me what you were going to say earlier."

"Well…" JD, looking at Veronica, with a sappy smile, was enough to make Heather's stomach turn. "I'm finally gonna to do it."

"What?" Heather feigned innocent; she wanted to hear him say it.

JD blushed. "I'm gonna ask her out. After the game, I'll ask her to go with me to Hogsmeade."

JD had a crush on Veronica since the day she punched Kurt in the face for teasing Hippogriff, their schools neighborhood griffin, while it was on death row. Though Heather and Mac used Professor Fleming's time turner to save the beast from its cruel fate, Veronica punching Kurt seemed to be the only constant.

That happened third year. JD held his crush for a total of three years without so much as waving in Veronica's direction. So, Heather didn't feel bad when she said—

"About time."

JD laughed nervously, "I know right?"

"Are you sure Duke didn't slip you some liquid luck in your cup this morning?"

"Ha ha, very funny." JD said, "Let's just get this charm down, you have the rest of your life to mock me."

Heather scoffed. "This charm is a joke."

"What do you mean?"

"How is this going to help me when I'm up against a death eater or—"

"Woah," JD lowered his voice. "…Heather, the war is over, it ended a long time ago, we don't have to worry about stuff like that. And having access to water whenever you want is useful; for survival and water balloon fights."

Heather crossed her arms, mumbling, "I guess."

"That's the spirit." JD grinned, "Come on. Let's get this down so we can learn cooler charms down the road."

While JD did his best to master the charm, Heather doodled in her notebook and kept her mouth closed for the rest of the class. She wanted to remind JD that there were plenty of death eaters, who had escaped during the war, before they could be sent to Azkaban. There was a possibility that they could still be lurking but, Heather didn't want to sound crazier than she already had.

Heather was happy when the class was finally over (she'd run out of space to draw a doodle of Professor Fleming getting hexed). But, before Heather stood from her seat, a voice at the front of the class stopped her.

"Miss Chandler," Professor Fleming beckoned her to the front. "A word."

Heather groaned.

"Do you want me to wait for you outside?" JD asked softly.

Heather shook her head, "No, it's fine. I have a free period and you have potions next. I'll just see you after the game."

"Definitely. And good luck out there, I'll be cheering in my head."

JD was the announcer for the game, so he had to try to appear neutral. But everyone knew he and Heather were thick as thieves.

"Thanks."

Heather closed her notebook, hiding her drawing from view, as she approached Professor Fleming. It wasn't until the last student was gone, did her professor speak.

"You didn't seem very engaged in the lesson today. Any particular reason?"

Heather crossed her arms and leaned into an old desk. "No. I'm just tired—"

"So my lessons bore you?"

A pause.

"Don't answer that," Professor Fleming mumbled. "…you're a sixth year now. Next year you'll be graduating, you need to know these charms to pass your O.W.L.S. so you can make something of yourself. You have natural talent like your parents, I give you that but…you won't pass if you don't know how to do a simple charm—"

"Maybe I'm sick of simple charms."

Professor Fleming pursed her lips. "Careful Miss Chandler, you should watch your tone or—"

"When am I going to learn something _useful_?"

Professor Fleming's frustration melted away as she stared at Heather. Her eyes flashed with understanding. Heather couldn't stand how easy she was to read; she wore her emotions on her sleeve, it was one of her main character flaws.

That, among other things.

"Heather," her professor said softly. "I know you're searching for something—but he's gone. Your parents made sure of it. They died so no one would live in fear, don't let their sacrifice be in vain."

"How can you be sure?" Heather demanded. "No one, none of the other professors, attended Westerberg when it all that happened. Just Dumbledore, and he's a closed book filled with silly riddles that lead you nowhere. I can't even read about the events because the history is restricted.

"I'm trying to analyze the facts, but I can't do that when everyone keeps it locked away."

Professor Fleming masked her face into a frown. "There's nothing to analyze. Let it go Miss Chandler."

Heather held her tongue. "_Fine_."

Heather tried to leave but was stopped once more.

"The charm." Professor Fleming frowned, "If it's so simple then perform it for me."

Heather contemplated using wandless magic so she could permanently wash the condescending look off her professor's face. If she knew half the spells Heather had up her sleeve…

Heather lifted her curved wand, it was her identical; filled with twists, and crooks, equally distinct and dangerous. "Aguamenti."

A blast of vicious waves, aimed close to Professor Fleming's side, splashed into the wall. Heather held the charm long enough to display her strength, stopping it before a flood could occur, and once it seemed like her professor was satisfied, Heather twisted her wrist to silently return the water to its source.

Professor Fleming looked shaken. "…very good," she mumbled, blinking away her awe. "I suppose you have learned something in my class. You're excused."

Heather gratefully snatched her bag and books before she left the classroom in a blur.

She didn't care to inform her professor that she'd learned the charm months ago.

* * *

_"Ladies and gentlemen, it's the moment you've been waiting for! Welcome to the first championship quidditch match to see who will make it to finals," _JD's voice echoed around the field, _"Tonight we'll be seeing house rivals battle for the spot: Slytherin vs Gryffindor!"_

Heather loved the way the stadium shook with cheers from the audience as she and her team flew out on their brooms. This was the only time during the match where they could showboat; impressing the crowd by flying on their brooms without hands, doing reckless loops into the air, all while their varsity lineup was being introduced. But, even as Heather heard JD's distinct voice comforting her through the night, Heather's mood was a bit dampened.

They weren't on their home field tonight.

Westerberg was doing remodeling on their previous field, so their match was held far outside of the school; near the Forbidden Forest. It was just a couple miles out of reach. Heather sat high above the stadium, gazing out into the dark forest, while her teammates continued their antics. Her skin was alive with nerves; there was a pull at her lips as she took it all in.

Heather has been confined to the walls of Westerberg for years. Freedom was just beyond her reach. It was a bittersweet feeling; knowing she could be out, in the real world, in just a few minutes…but the professors would never allow it.

_"Now, introducing Gryffindor!"_

Heather pulled herself from her daze and chose to watch as a blur of scarlet and gold flashed by. Leading the Gryffindor team was Kurt Kelly, the best beater they had on the team; Heather's felt the blow from his bludger one too many times.

"Damn," Heather almost jumped out of her skin as Ram flew up beside her. "I thought Kurt was still injured…"

Heather mumbled, "Apparently not."

The Gryffindor team finished dispersing when a stray player flew out a couple paces behind. Veronica, clad in her hideous house colors, never partook in the showboating aspect of the game. While her teammates battled for the crowds attention, Veronica waited patiently for her name to be called for the starting lineup and simply waved at the crowd and offered a charming smile.

"And they have Sawyer," Ram looked at the projector in the sky, it displayed the statistics of each player. "…they switched it up, she's a beater for this game. Someone must have leaked our play; why else would they do this?"

Heather was usually a seeker; ever since she won the match for Slytherin during her first year, catching the golden snitch with her mouth (so embarrassing, JD still teases her for it). But Heather was one of those talented players who could excel no matter where they put her; unfortunately, so was Veronica.

Veronica was a force on the field; her movements were practiced, everything she did was well planned out. She was always steps ahead of everyone. Meanwhile, Heather played to the beat of her own drum. Heather often tossed out the plays her Co-captain, Ram, devised and instead went by ear. Heather's spontaneous, downright reckless, plays had won them several matches, leaving the crowd on the edge of their seats, and often gave JD a heart attack. One time she almost fell off her broom, tumbling down into the grass (not soft enough to protect her fragile bones) as she caught the golden snitch.

Ergo, it was always bound to be an exciting match when Heather was involved.

"Who do you think the mole is?"

Ram glanced at their team. "No clue. I can find out."

"Good. Get back to me by the end of the weekend, I want names."

Ram nodded. "On it."

Heather watched him fly down to start his espionage mission. She spared a final longing glance to the Forbidden Forest before she flipped the switch. Heather flew down to meet the other players who were huddled up, readying for the jump. Heather got into position as the clock ticked down with seconds before the start of the championships.

Being that Veronica would be a beater this game, the Gryffindor was positioned right in front of Heather. As the chaser, Heather's main objective was to score points by throwing the quaffle into the opposing teams hoop.

Heather grew anxious as the start of the game neared. Veronica was the fastest player in quidditch school history so, Heather knew she would have trouble avoiding blows from her bludger tonight.

However, luck might have been on her side. True to JD's words, Veronica was distracted by something. She was too busy staring off into the stands to notice Heather watching her. JD had teased Heather about being oblivious to human behavior, and while Heather wasn't able to fully detect when her closest friends were going through an emotional dilemma—she knew when something was up with her rival. Years, of watching Veronica from afar, allowed Heather to read her like a book.

Heather knew someone, most likely watching the game, was putting Veronica on edge. It was in the way her brow was furrowed into a concentrated look; lip tucked between pristine teeth, brown, doe, eyes flickering back and forth.

_"The players now take their position as Madam Hooch flies out onto the field to begin the game!"_

Madam Hooch, one of the flying instructors at Westerberg, flew underneath them on the field. She used her wand to hold up to a wood polished box, about five by six feet long.

"I want a clean game!" Madam Hooch said. "Any foul play will not be tolerated and the players responsible will be taken out of the game!"

Madam Hooch set them all with a look before she opened the shaking box. Two bludgers flew out of the box while the golden snitch scattered.

_"The bludgers are up!" _JD said with glee, _"And the golden snitch is on the move! For those of you who aren't quidditch savvy, the person who catches the golden snitch receives 150 points for their team and wins the game."_

Madam Hooch removed a circular, dented, sphere from the chest. She threw it up into the air.

_"The quaffle is released—the game begins!"_

Ram easily obtained the quaffle and made a dart towards Gryffindor's hoops on the other end of the field. Heather flew a couple paces across from him, getting in tune with his movements as they raced for the goal. Ram passed her the quaffle when Kurt made a move to knock him off his broom.

Heather held the quaffle close to her chest. She narrowly avoided flying into the stand when Veronica threw a bludger at her. But she missed. Heather's suspicions were right; Veronica was off her game tonight.

_"Ten points for Slytherin!" _JD cheered, far too excited to be neutral. _"Heather Chandler starts the game off right!"_

Heather chose to fly back on the defensive as Gryffindor got the quaffle. She watched Kurt make a move towards their goal from the other side of the field; he swiftly flew past the underclassmen on her team (Heather would make their lives hell at practice on Monday for their slip).

Heather gave Ram a nod. They didn't have to talk. Ram followed her lead and helped her trap Kurt between their brooms. Together they forced Kurt into the stands; bumping into him until he lost control of his broom.

_"Looks like we have a classic Chandler—Sweeney team up!"_

Ram apprehended the quaffle—

_"Kelly fumbles! Slytherin now has possession!"_

Ram looked to Heather again when a couple players started closing in on him.

_"Sweeney passes the quaffle to Chandler!" _JD announced, _"But here comes Sawyer, ready at her hoop with a bludger in hand!"_

Heather geared up to throw just as Veronica prepared for the block—

_"And Chandler scores another ten points for Slytherin!"_

The Slytherin crowd went wild.

_"Looks like Chandler isn't losing this game folks!"_

"Hey, Sawyer," Heather growled as her temper flared, "The next time you hit, you better not miss."

She didn't care what was distracting Veronica; Heather wanted to win, but it meant nothing if Veronica went easy on her.

"What, I…" Veronica's eyes went wide, she stared at Heather in awe, before she collected herself and gave a firm nod. "I won't."

The look of determination on Veronica's face spoke volumes. Heather knew, she wouldn't be scoring anymore easy points from here on out.

The match continued and once Veronica was finally pulled out of her daze, the real fun began. Everyone could feel the tension as Heather and Veronica stopped each other from advancing on every play; resulting in an annoying stalemate. Heather knew Veronica was after her, it's why Gryffindor switched her position as a beater, so she could keep one of Slytherin's best players down.

Heather couldn't carry her team like she normally did. Instead, Heather focused on the little things to help her team advance. She created openings for Ram to score, knocked a couple Gryffindor's off their brooms before they could get the quaffle; anything to put her team in the right position.

"Kurt is up my ass," Ram hissed as he flew beside her. "I can barely get to the goal."

"I know," Heather thought for a moment, "Pass me the quaffle."

"Your situation is worse than mine!" Ram protested, "Veronica won't let you score—"

"I'm not losing tonight."

Ram looked worse off than before.

"What?"

"Whenever you say that you do something reckless—"

"But we end up winning."

Ram frowned, "Yeah, you also scare the crap out of everyone. I can't stand another one of JD's rants at lunch."

"Just follow my lead."

There was no stopping Heather when she put her mind to something. Ram took to the skies again and helped some of the beaters defend their goal from Kurt.

_"Slytherin protects their goal and steals the quaffle. Ram makes a move, barely avoiding a hit from Kurt but he's still on his tail and—wait…Ram passes the quaffle to Chandler! It's not a wise move with Sawyer not far behind. Chandler better have a tactful plan in mind to shake her off!"_

Heather snorted at his choice of words; _tactful. _She knew she'd get an ear from JD for this play, but her adrenaline was pumping.

Heather flew towards the goal, but Veronica was there waiting for her; the fire in Veronica's eyes, the one Heather had fueled herself, raged into the night. Heather smirked, nothing but teeth, sharper than most, as she changed trajectory.

The crowd gasped.

_"—Chandler does a nosedive! She zooms down towards the pitch—"_

The key difference about not being on their home field was the distance it took to fall off the broom and into the pit below. Westerberg's pit wasn't too far of a drop, and there was sand to soften the fall, but at Gotham—the stadium regulations were a bit, vintage; back when quidditch was played over bottomless pits (raging volcanos for the bravest wizards and witches).

Here, at Gotham, there was no sand awaiting them at the bottom; just a sea of raging water.

_"Sawyer follows Chandler!"_

Heather expected nothing less. Veronica, despite what Heather liked to believe, was not an idiot. Veronica knew Heather's knack for reckless tricks during their games; and more times than not, she ended up dragging Veronica down with her into the madness that was her mind.

Veronica was the fastest player in Westerberg history, so Heather wasn't surprised to see Veronica flying up beside her. But, while Veronica was fast, Heather was strong.

"What are you doing!" Veronica shouted above the wind; she had that same crazed look she wore whenever Heather pulled her into her insane antics.

Heather didn't answer with words.

_"Chandler aims at the hoop but she's too far into the pitch to score—"_

Heather's counting on Ram to follow her lead. And, with Veronica on her tail, bludger ready to block, Heather uses all her strength to turn her body—

_"How is she—Chandler flips over on her broom!"_ JD shouted, _"She's hanging upside down—"_

Veronica is too shocked by Heather's spontaneous move to react fast enough. Heather uses her momentum to toss the quaffle back up into the air.

_"—Chandler passes to Sweeney who inched closer to the goal during the distraction and—he scores! Slytherin is now in the lead with seconds to spare!"_

Heather cheers along with the crowd as the time end, "Yes!"

"Hey! Don't just—" Veronica says but it's too late.

Heather loses her balance and falls backwards off her broom. Veronica doesn't hesitate to grab her hand, but she's not at the right angle to hold Heather up. And, just like every other match, Heather pulls Veronica into the consequences of her actions.

_"Slytherin wins the first game of championships!"_ JD's voice comforts her as Heather falls.

The crowd is too distracted in their celebration to notice the two witches descend closer to the crashing waves.

"Heather!" Veronica shouts, tightening her grip on Heather's hand.

She snaps, "I know!"

The cheers above turn into terrified screams but no help is sent their way.

Heather doesn't understand why one of the professors hasn't rescued them if they were aware of the situation. For a few moments Heather gave them the benefit of the doubt but, as they inched closer to the water, she could feel how terrified Veronica was. Veronica wasn't screaming, but Heather wanted to when she felt Veronica's nails digging into the palm of her hand.

"Shit," Heather really wished she could reach her wand, but Veronica's hand kept her restrained. "Okay, hold on!"

From this distance, Heather was sure no one could see her whisper a quick hovering spell under her lips. Veronica's eyes shut as she braced for impact; but, instead of falling, they were held up by an invisible force seconds before they could reach the water. Veronica sighed in relief.

The moment is short lived when a stinging jinx grazes Heather's shoulder; cutting through her uniform and digging into her skin.

"Fuck!" Heather flinched; she was too distracted by the pain in her shoulder to hold the spell.

They landed in the water.

"Heather," Veronica called as she resurfaced.

Heather tried to swim to Veronica but a barrage of spells, a mix of stunning spells and hexes, were throw at her from above. Heather stopped trying to dodge them when another, vicious stinging jinx, clashed with her side. Her blood began to boil. Heather gripped her side and used her free hand to throw up an invisible shield.

"Protego!"

Heather felt her body sink further into the water once they were protected. The spells bounced off her shield in a beautiful display of lights and stark colors. However, Heather felt her strength weaken as her injuries began to take its toll; it also took extra energy to keep herself afloat.

Veronica took advantage of the shield and swam over. She pulled Heather's arm over her shoulder to keep her from sinking. Heather allowed herself to be weak, just for tonight, and found comfort in Veronica's freezing side.

"We have to leave."

Heather nodded, "I'm open to suggestions."

Heather didn't know how they were going to get back up with the spells directed at them, and their brooms had been destroyed by the vicious waves, and Heather didn't have the stamina to—

There was a sound like thunder, followed by a bright light, before they were gone.

* * *

Heather fell to her knees on the forest ground. She groaned into the dirt as her side and shoulder screamed. There was rustling of leaves, Veronica rushing to her side—voice in panic.

"I-I'm sorry! Did you get splinched?"

Heather realized Veronica had used apparition to teleport them away from the quidditch field. Apparition was a magical form of teleportation, a witch or wizard could easily disappear with the spell; it is accompanied with a loud cracking sound but, the most skilled wizards and witches could use apparition silently. There were dreadful side effects to using the spell; if not done correctly, a person could get splinched in the process.

Splinching occurred when a person using apparition isn't physically strong enough to carry out the spell perfectly or are in a rush. Splinching resulted in getting physically split between the origin and destination and it took help from the Ministry's Accidental Magic Reversal Squad to undo the wounds.

Apparition was not allowed on Westerberg grounds because it was seen as a rude invasion of privacy (barging into a persons space out of nowhere) so Heather was surprised Veronica could perform the spell so perfectly; especially given the extreme situation they were in. Veronica was seventeen, like Heather, so it could be possible that she had a license in apparition.

"No," Heather found comfort in Veronica's worry, "…the spells, I was struck in the side, and my shoulder—"

"Let me—"

Heather flinched away before Veronica could touch her shoulder; she probably looked like a wounded animal.

"…you have a potion on you?"

Veronica gulped. "No, but…Martha wants to be a healer and she taught me how to heal a few wounds and scars."

Heather supposed that was good enough; and she was too weak to do it herself, she needed to save her energy to get them back. So, she gave her approval with a curt nod.

This time when Veronica reached for her shoulder, Heather didn't protest. Veronica grazed her bruised skin with a delicate hand; Heather felt her body shiver at the first touch of Veronica's skin on hers. By the shaky way Veronica released a breath, accompanied by the pink staining her face, Heather knew she felt it too.

"Relax," Heather didn't realize how tense she was until Veronica spoke.

For the second time tonight, Veronica surprised her. Heather couldn't fully hear the spell whispered from Veronica's pink lips, they were far too hushed and got lost in the forest they found themselves in. She felt a sharp pain around her shoulder the same time Veronica asked—

"Does it hurt?"

Heather clawed the ground with her free hand, scoffing, "I'm fine."

Veronica was wise enough not to pry, and instead smiled into the approaching night. When Veronica was finished healing her shoulder Heather lifted her uniform top, folding the green cloak aside, to reveal her red spotted flesh; there was blood breaking at the surface.

Veronica's face twisted. Heather could tell there was a nervous rant on the verge of slipping but Veronica focused on the task at hand and healed Heather's side instead. The same pain followed over during the healing, this one drastically worse than the last. Heather's breathing sped up; sweat dripping down her forehead.

"Sorry," Veronica mumbled. "I'm trying to make sure it won't scar."

Heather was impressed by Veronica's healing ability. How, a muggle born none the less, learned how to heal so correctly by just having a couple lessons here and there was unheard of.

"There, you're good to go."

Heather sighed, "Thanks," and pulled her clothes back down.

Heather stood up to stretch her aching muscles as she surveyed their surroundings. They were in some forest she'd never seen before, and the light was starting to fade as the moon crept in. If they didn't get back soon it would be too dark to navigate themselves; even with their wands.

Speaking of wands; Heather plucked hers out from her high knee socks and used a quick drying spell on their damp clothes.

"Oh." Veronica startled, looking up at Heather from the ground. "T-thanks."

Heather shrugged. "You patched me up, we're even now."

Veronica took the hand Heather offered to help her up.

"…wouldn't say we're even."

"Excuse me?"

Veronica jumped out of her skin. She clasped her hands over her mouth when she realized she'd spoken aloud.

"N-nothing."

Heather frowned. "I take it back, we're not even, you owe me."

"What! How?"

"I saved us from falling—"

Veronica scoffed, "And whose fault was it that we were even falling in the first place?"

"You didn't have to follow me."

"Someone had to save you from dying!" Veronica's cheeks were pink with frustration, "You always do this! Last match you threw yourself off your broom to get the golden snitch; I heard the nurse wasn't happy to heal your broken bones."

Heather shrugged, "It's all part of the game—"

"It's not worth you getting hurt over."

When Heather stared at her with a confused expression, Veronica rolled her eyes.

"Forget it. Let's just go."

Heather followed her into the forest. "Go where?"

"We have to leave."

"Leave where?" Heather huffed, "Stop being cryptic and tell me where we're going. We can't go back to the field, it's under attack, let's go back to Westerberg—"

Veronica spun around, frowning. "The stadium wasn't under attack."

"Did you not just see—"

"_You _were the one being attacked. Something was after you, and Dumbledore is probably still at the stadium trying to apprehend the person responsible. If we go back to Westerberg no one will be able to protect us."

Heather's mind was reeling. She had a few hunches about who could be after her, but she'd need to analyze the facts. The first step would be looking into what Duke discovered last night.

"What are you doing?"

Heather held her wand in the air and shot up a flare; it was charmed so the only people who could see it were Duke and Mac.

"I sent a flare up, only Mac and Duke can see it, so we don't have to worry about having unwanted attention drawn to us. Hopefully they'll find us when everything cools down."

Veronica gaped, "Amazing…since when can you do that?"

There was comedic frustration behind Veronica's eyes; it was good to know she saw Heather as her rival as well.

"Since when do you apparate?"

Veronica shot back, "Since when do you use wandless magic?"

Heather knew a losing battle when she saw one.

"…so, now what? We just sit here and wait? If we can't go to school, then where can we go?"

"I didn't say we couldn't go back. Let's just give everything time to cool off."

Heather leaned against a nearby tree, arms crossed. "Fine."

They sat in thick silence. Veronica leaned on the tree across from Heather and stared off into the forest; eyes searching. It reminded Heather of earlier and how distracted Veronica had been during the game. It wasn't her place to ask, she and Veronica weren't exactly friends, they were relatively civil with each other, but…Heather was curious.

If Veronica had a problem with her curiosity, then Heather would incorporate JD into the conversation and say she's only curious for his sake.

"What are you looking for?"

Veronica jumped, "N-nothing."

"You suck at lying." Heather said. "I saw you looking in the stands; you were distracted during the game. Something's bothering you."

"I didn't think you cared." Veronica whispered; something Heather couldn't quite gage was pulling on her face.

"I don't," her reply didn't have her usual venom. "I just can't have my rival distracted, especially during a game, I need you at your best or the win won't count. So spill."

Veronica hesitated, "…it's complicated."

"Story of my life."

"It's a stretch…"

"I get that more than anyone."

Heather felt for the spark in Veronica's eye as she tried to explain. Heather saw the same spark in her own eyes, every day as she tried to find out the truth about the Dark Lord's death. People didn't believe her, thought she was making things up, but Heather couldn't ignore the chills or the threats to her life.

If there was nothing to discover, why were there barriers at every turn?

"…there's this weird, dark shadow lurking around the school sometimes. I'm the only one who can see it; Martha thought I was crazy when I tried to explain it to her and for good reason." Veronica looked away, "I can feel it before it comes into view, on most days it's harboring traces of the darkest magic I've ever felt…it started off small, but it's growing stronger. At the game today I saw the dark fog floating aimlessly above the crowd; it looked like it was waiting to pick someone out to…"

Veronica laughed awkwardly, concluding "You don't believe me. You think I'm mental—"

"I think you're an idiot."

Veronica looked ready to argue her case when—

Heather said, "But you're not a liar."

"Heather," Veronica smiled, "So you believe me? About the shadow?"

"I don't know about a shadow, but stranger things have happened. And a cloud of dark magic, maybe a spell that can manipulate the host, is the best explanation we have for what happened tonight."

Veronica looked away, gazing into he forest again. Heather assumed she was running the options through her head and testing which was the best solution. Heather didn't know how much Veronica knew about her quest to find the truth, and she wasn't inclined to let Veronica in on any more. Heather already had her hands full with thing one and thing two, not to mention her slushie obsessed stepbrother, she didn't need another person to worry about.

She didn't need Veronica getting hurt by any more of her rash decisions.

"Look," Heather made up her mind, "It's probably nothing. The shadow can't correlate to what's been going on. So forget about it. Hey. Are you listening?"

Veronica released a shaky breath. Heather was startled by the puff of white smoke that escaped Veronica's mouth; the temperature wasn't cold enough for foggy breath.

"Veronica?"

"It's here."

* * *

Veronica took a staggering step back as the dark shadow darted around in a frenzy. It became clear (she had a hunch) that it was after Heather. Frozen in her spot, Veronica's feet suddenly moved on their own as she pulled Heather away as the shadow aimed at her.

"What the hell?" Heather tried to see something she couldn't. "Where is it?"

Veronica knocked them to the ground as the shadow swept over their heads. She landed onto of Heather, hands bracing the Slytherin down by her shoulders. Any other time Veronica would have flushed, selfishly enjoying the warmth Heather gave off, but the dark magic zipping through the air was a mood killer.

"Veronica—"

She blocked out Heather's noise and kept her eyes trained on the shadow. A squirrel, wandering in search for nuts, was hit in the cross fire. The source of dark magic latched onto the forest creature; taking its host.

"There!" Veronica pointed at the squirrel.

"Veronica. It's a bloody squirrel."

"But—"

"Get. Off. Me."

Veronica didn't need to be told twice. She leapt to her feet and tried to offer Heather a hand up, but it was painfully ignored. Veronica's face was alight with embarrassment. If Heather thought she was an idiot before then, her opinion had grown stronger.

At first, when Heather called her an idiot, Veronica wanted to laugh but she'd been too outraged. In terms of idiocy, Heather wasn't far behind. Everyone knew Heather's conspiracy theories of the past. Veronica wasn't doubtful of Heather's notions, not like everyone else, no. Heather and her trio just had a knack for getting themselves into dangerous situations, and without a plan.

Going in blind; that was stupid.

"I'm leaving," Heather said, brushing the dirt off her robes.

Veronica took another step back when the squirrel started convulsing. "…Heather—"

"Nope. I'm over it," Heather snapped. "I can't believe I wasted time worrying about you—"

The squirrel's body began to transform. Similar to a werewolf, the creatures body snapped at odd angles to adjust to its new form.

"T-the squirrel—"

Heather looked up, glaring, "Yeah—what about…holy shit."

Veronica would have said _told you so _if the squirrel hadn't transformed into a dementor.

Dementors were wraithlike Dark creatures who fed off human happiness and often generated depression and despair if someone got too close. They were used to punish war criminals. Azkaban was known for harboring them in their prisons; few survived the kiss from a dementor so being sent to Azkaban was essentially a death sentence.

But, having your soul sucked was a fate worse than death.

"Veronica," Heather stepped in front of her. "Now would be a great time to form your patronus."

Veronica was the first one in their class to learn how to form her patronus while everyone else struggled; she still wasn't sure if they ever learned how. Veronica remembered the jealous looks as she, a muggle born, cast a beautiful stag of protection out of her happiest memory. It was difficult, advanced, magic that came naturally to her.

But following the dark cloud, week after week, month after month, had taken its toll. The dark magic lurking behind the mist had leaked into her; she couldn't seem to form one happy thought. Veronica had stared too long into the abyss and now, it was staring back at her.

"Veronica!" Heather sounded far away.

Veronica gave in, her mind was too weak, and she didn't fight the pull. It was strangely calming, she thought, to have your soul ripped from your—

"Expecto Patronum!"

Veronica was blinded by a bright blue, all consuming, light. A hand on her shoulder, Heather, gripping her so tight Veronica thought she might draw blood, pulled her out of it. And as the light behind her eyes started to dim, Veronica could breathe again.

Veronica collapsed into Heather's arms. Her body shook erratically as she tried to steady herself.

"Are you okay?" Heather's hair covered her face; it was hard for Veronica to read her.

Instead of answering, Veronica admired the eagle, Heather's patronus, soaring through the sky. A bright light trailed behind it as it warded off the dementor.

"Veronica."

She met icy blue eyes.

"Why couldn't you form your patronus?"

"…the shadow, the dark magic around it—I've been studying it for a long time. I didn't notice how much it affected me until now."

"The shadow," Heather brushed her hair out of her face, mumbling. "…you were right."

"It doesn't matter—"

"It does." Heather looked torn. "I dismissed you…"

Veronica didn't need Heather to finish her words to understand what she wanted to say. Heather had dismissed Veronica the same way everyone belittled Heather's own notions of the war.

Veronica smiled, "I get it."

She regretted pulling herself from Heather's arms, not sure when she'd get the chance again. Veronica turned back to the eagle flying high above the trees.

"Your patronus is beautiful…and powerful." Veronica grinned, trying in vain to ease the tension. "Hey. At least this time we really are even. You just saved me from a dementor's kiss—"

"You could have died…"

Veronica laughed nervously. "But I didn't. You saved me."

Veronica blamed it all on her adrenaline when she stepped forward to place a chaste kiss on Heather's cheek.

"…Thank you."

Heather's mask of indifference was broken down by a simple kiss. She searched Veronica's eyes for answers but eventually came up short. Veronica's breath hitched when those same eyes glanced at her own parted lips. And suddenly, the were much closer than before. Veronica didn't dare rush Heather as she took her time to lean in; she didn't want to wake up from whatever cruel dream she found herself in.

Veronica was the one to close the gap. She couldn't wait any longer to have Heather's taste on her lips. Years of secretly longing from afar, getting frustrated in the middle of their heated arguments, were worth it the moment she felt how soft Heather's lips were. Veronica planned on going slow, to bask in the sensation, but Heather ravaged her lips with a bottomless hunger.

Veronica couldn't imagine Heather wanting this as much as she did, but the truth was in the kiss.

Heather backed her against the tree and kissed her recklessly; Veronica couldn't predict her movements. It usually drove her crazy when Heather was stupidly spontaneous, especially on the field, but right now it was very much welcome.

A moan slipped from her lips as Heather's tongue met hers in a dance. Veronica threw her arms around Heather's shoulders and pulled her impossibly closer. She thought she'd melt into the ground when Heather responded by tracing random patterns along her waist.

"Heather!"

They jumped apart with ragged breathes. Mac and Duke were stumbling through the woods with their wands drawn; but, lucky for them, their backs were turned.

Heather put her mask on, "Over here!"

"Heather!" Mac wrapped her into a hug, "We saw your charm in the sky and came here as soon as they apprehended the criminal."

"Who was it?"

Duke said, "Some defense against the dark arts professor who just started teaching here. They sent him in for questioning, the ministry is going to handle it, but the guy pretended like he didn't know what was going on."

"Maybe he cast a memory spell on himself? So he'd look innocent?" Mac suggested.

Heather and Veronica exchanged a knowing look.

"Oh, Veronica!" Mac noticed Heather wasn't alone. "I didn't notice you, sorry! Are you okay?"

"I'm—"

"You two were stuck in the woods together?" Duke laughed, "Surprised no one's dead."

Veronica met Heather's shaky eyes again; Duke didn't know the truth behind her own words.

"It was smart escaping here," Mac said, "Not even the professors could track you guys down."

"It was Veronica's idea." Heather confessed. "But we're safe to head back to Westerberg, right?"

"Yeah. Dumbledore went back before sending a couple professors out to find you two."

Mac winced, "Professor Fleming didn't look pleased. So expect an earful."

An earful was an understatement.

Professor Fleming berated them for thirty minutes straight. Fifteen for Veronica and Heather for apparating into the Forbidden Forest (they hadn't known at the time), and an extra fifteen for Mac and Duke at not telling anyone of the faculty when they found them.

In the end Dumbledore finally did something useful; he told Professor Fleming to let them off the hook for tonight so they could get rest (it was nearing midnight). There would be punishments for their behavior in the morning but for now they would be sent to bed with no dinner.

"And dragging poor Veronica into your schemes," Professor Fleming had hissed. "Don't lump her into your golden trio messes!"

Heather scoffed into her pillow. "Poor Veronica my ass."

Veronica was far from naïve or innocent. The girl proved more useful than Heather anticipated with her strange ability. To think, Heather's spent years keeping Veronica at a distance but…Veronica was the missing piece. Whatever force Heather felt was out there…Veronica could see.

Heather didn't want to drag Veronica into her mess, she almost died tonight, but…Heather didn't think she could solve this without Veronica's help.

There was a knock at her door around the same time her clock hit one in the morning. Heather got up to answer the door. Mac and Duke had retired to their own rooms, so she wasn't sure who was on the other side. And JD stopped visiting her after hours when stupid rumors started spreading about them being closer than they were.

"Veronica?" Heather frowned, "…how you get to my room?"

"I have a few friends in Slytherin, and this year's password is kind of obvious."

The password for the year was snake.

"True," Heather crossed her arms. "What are you doing here?"

Veronica bit her lip nervously; Heather berated herself for staring a second too long at them. Their kiss had been amazing, but Heather was sure Veronica only kissed her because of the adrenaline rush she felt after her graze with death.

"The shadow…" it snapped Heather out of her thoughts.

"Are you okay?" Heather asked in a panic, "Did it come back?"

If Veronica got hurt because of her Heather wouldn't be able to forgive herself.

"No, it didn't…but," Veronica ducked her head. "I just, I don't want to be alone right now. And Martha means well but, I know she doesn't believe me…but you—you've seen what it can do."

"If it's after me then I'm the last person you should be with. You're not safe with me," Heather whispered.

"Then why do I feel safe?" Veronica asked. "My hands haven't stopped shaking since the dementor showed up. But, when I'm around you, when you opened the door the shaking went away and…I don't know—I just feel safe with you."

Heather's heart did a flip, and how could she not kiss Veronica after she said something so perfect?

Heather refused to break the kiss as she pulled Veronica into her room. She shut the door with her free hand and pushed Veronica against it. And for a brief moment, Heather remembered how crazy JD was about Veronica; how he would have asked her out if the night hadn't ended the way it did. Heather contemplated pulling away but, the moment Veronica slipped her hand under Heather's shirt, all rational thought faded away.

Veronica was all she could focus on.

* * *

**This was just a one-shot I had in my head and wanted to put it out here.**


	2. Distant Memories

**CHAPTER TWO:**

**Distant Memories**

1

_Fourth Year_

_"I said leave Martha alone!"_

_"Veronica, stop," Martha tries to step in front of her but Veronica doesn't budge (damn Gryffindor pride), "he's not worth it," she whispers._

_Kurt was a great teammate on the quidditch field but the same curtesy didn't go outside the pitch. He glares at her saying, "Dumptruck doesn't need your help and even if she did she wouldn't take it from a mudblood—"_

_Veronica aims her wand. "Take that back," she doesn't pay mind to the crowd of students eager for a fight, "or else."_

_"Or else what? Mudblood."_

_Veronica doesn't think when she aims a horn-growing hex towards Kurt. It's a slightly more advanced spell that she learned studying books over the summer in between working at her part time job at the diner up on 3rd. She isn't one to act recklessly but when it comes to Martha she gets a little over protective. She deems horns fitting for Kurt and is longing to see them sprout from his head when—_

_"Protego!" Kurt's reflexes are better than she expected. He casts a protection spell and the hex bounces off his shield and hits her in the gut causing her to fall to her knees. Martha crowds her in a rush of words as twisting antlers sprout from her head. Kurt and his crew laugh, "holy shit! Look at her! She's gonna have to sit through all of potions like that."_

_Martha helps her up, "let's just go."_

_Veronica snatches her arm away from Martha and runs until Kurt's laughing is dulled behind the walls of the school. She makes a sharp right and bumps into the last person she wants to see (especially when her face is red and she's close to tears). Heather Chandler is leaning against the windowsill, the book she was reading falls to the floor when Veronica bumps her._

_She expects Heather to snap at her but all she does is pick up her book and lean back up against the sill. Her disinterest hurts Veronica more than any scorn she would've given her so she runs past her towards the dormitory; there's no way she's going to class looking like a freak._

2

Veronica remembers that day. It wasn't the first time she'd embarrassed herself protecting Martha. But over the years her spells grew stronger, as did her reflexes, and she's proud to say she has bested Kurt more times than she's lost. Her contribution to their quidditch matches eventually did make Kurt submit and now he somewhat respects her but she can't say the same for his crew. Veronica still bunts heads with them. During most of her duels, in the crowd, she has always seen Heather, mostly hanging around JD, paying no attention to Veronica and the new group of bullies she was protecting Martha from. She never thought Heather noticed…that she didn't care.

Veronica brushes a strand of hair out of Heather's face when someone knocks on the door. "Heather!" Duke's voices sends chills up her spine. "Heather," she shouts again with another knock.

Veronica knows they have a silencing spell up around Heather's room but she doesn't trust Duke not to force herself inside somehow. And knowing the golden trio and how close their secrets go she doesn't doubt Duke has the knowledge to find a way. "Heather," she shakes her a bit too violently. Heather rolls out of bed and falls to the floor in a pile of limbs and blankets.

"What the fu—" Heather cuts herself off when Veronica peeks her head over the edge of the bed to check on her. Memories from last night must be resurfacing because a vibrant blush spreads from her face to the tip of her ears.

"Heather!" Duke shouts again.

Mac sounds timid, "do you think she overslept?"

"Wouldn't be the first time, lazy…"

"Shit." Heather hisses. She jumps to action but it only causes her to tangle herself further into the sheets. Heather eventually gets free, standing victorious in her oversized Slytherin shirt. "What time is it?" she asks, frantic.

"Uh—half past ten." Veronica says quickly. She's confused when Heather pulls on a bra in a frenzy before switching her shirt out for a dress shirt. Heather runs around the room and searches through her drawers for a clean outfit. It's Saturday so they don't have to wear their uniform around school but she's never seen Heather wear anything casual.

"Are you gonna help me or sit there gawking?" Heather calls her out.

"Sorry it's just, things would be a lot easier if you used a wand." Veronica says with a smirk, not knowing exactly where her sudden confidence is coming from.

"Can't really find it at the moment," Heather huffs, "someone threw it last night."

Veronica neither denies nor vouches for her innocence. Instead, she pulls out her own wand from her sock. She uses her wand to makeup Heather's bed and then points it at Heather herself before she can protest. In a couple of seconds Heather is dressed in one of her usual weekend outfits Veronica has often admired from afar: a green pleated skirt with high black socks, with a white blouse, and a charming black blazer—including a Slytherin green tie.

Heather pulls on the fabric with a scowl. "Seriously? What's up with the tie?"

"I think it looks nice on you." Veronica shrugs.

"Just nice?"

Veronica feels her face warm, "you're insufferable."

"Heather," the knocking continues.

"Shit." Heather sighs, "okay, let me think of how we're gonna get you out of here, maybe you can—"

"You don't do this often," Veronica asks suddenly, "do you?"

Heather purses her lips. "Not particularly. No."

"Neither do I," Veronica ducks her head.

"Really?"

Veronica smiles. "Yeah…but I know you're familiar with sneaking around the school. Let me use your invisibility cloak to get out of here."

Heather frowns, "how do you—"

"I pay attention."

"Your head's always in your journal, ya know? I didn't think you'd noticed." She wants to tell Heather just how much she's watched her over the years but Heather's retrieving her wand from her desk and saying, "accio invisibility cloak." Her cloak springs up from somewhere inside her closet and falls into her arms. "Here," Heather wraps it around Veronica, "use the east wing, it's pretty slow during the morning. Everyone should be in the great hall anyway or sleeping."

Veronica nods, "got it."

Heather turns to the door. "Okay, now I just have to take off the silencing spell then we're—"

Veronica pulls Heather in for a kiss. When she pulls away Heather's eyes are still closed so she takes the opportunity to hide her blush by slipping under the cloak. When Heather opens her eyes, Veronica's seemingly gone.

"Heather—" the second and third additions to the golden trio knock on the door again.

"For fucks sake," Heather rolls her eyes. She takes off the silencing spell and opens the door. Duke and Mac nearly fall to the floor. "What?"

Duke frowns, "don't what us! The hell took so long, Hess?"

"It's Saturday. You know I like to sleep in." Heather pulls them away from the door so Veronica can slip out unannounced. "What's going on?"

Mac holds up a vial, "we have the tears from Slughorn."

Slughorn, Veronica thinks, why does that name sound so familiar?

Heather does her best to keep the door open long enough for Veronica to slip out. Ample time, but Veronica slips further into the room where she's sure no one will detect her breathing or bump into her by accident. She knows she shouldn't but the shadow is after Heather and she wants to know why. Dark magic doesn't just target people for no reason. She wouldn't be surprised if Heather and her gangly group are poking their noses where they don't belong.

"You found it?" Heather finally closes the door to protect them from prying ears. "How?"

Duke huffs, "had to use the rest of my liquid luck to pry answers from Slughorn. I was gonna use that luck to ask out Mason, that hot upper classman."

"Please, with your personality," Heather rolls her eyes. "Now, back to Slughorn. Where was he?"

Duke relents, "he was hiding out at a muggle village, Budleigh Babberton. Mac sent some questions through the grapevine and eventually we got an anonymous tip. After that it wasn't hard to find a location, and then I came into the game with one of your Polyjuice potions. Slughorn thought I was an old friend of his. This way, if anything happens, nothing can be traced back to us."

Heather grabs the vial. "How does it work?"

Mac says, "we need a pensive. It's a device used to conjure the memory."

"Okay," Heather nods, "where do we get one? This building is centuries old, there has to be one laying around here somewhere, right?"

Duke winces, "there is."

"Brilliant." Heather looks ready to move but is put off by sullen faces. "…spit it out. What's the problem?"

Mac confesses, "there's one in Dumbledore's office."

"We're already on thin ice with Fleming." Heather frowns "how the hell are we going to get in there without him knowing? Or long enough to see the memories?"

"No clue," Mac presses the vial into Heather's hands. "But you're doing this mission solo."

"What! Why?"

Duke huffs, "because Dumbledore gives us the creeps, and I already risked my life having a shady old man literally cry on my shoulder—I deserve a pass from this one."

"What about you?" Heather turns to Mac. "You're the one who's good with small talk."

"We don't need small talk; we need to be sneaky and you're the best person for it." Mac says, "besides, Duke and I are going to dig into what happened at the game yesterday. The newspaper says they released the suspect on the grounds of foul play. There were traces of dark magic in his system; like he was being controlled, but that's all they're telling us."

"Fine," Heather gives, "I guess I can go solo for this one. Dumbledore shouldn't be in his office on the weekend so after breakfast I'll see what I can do."

"Just be careful about the portraits in his office. They're always watching."

Heather sighs, "I know, come on. I can't be sneaky on an empty stomach."

Veronica waits until they're gone before she slips out a few moments after they've left the lounging area. There are gears moving around in her head long after she's halfway to the great hall.

3

The great hall is practically deserted when Heather trudges in during lunch. She ended up having to skip breakfast, stealing an apple and some scones, because Fleming made good on her promise to punish her. While she could've been snooping in Dumbledore's office, she was locked up in the Fleming's classroom grading underclassmen essay's (the lazy old hag can't do her own work). It struck Heather as odd, how she was the only one, out of three others, to get punished for a group effort. At the same time, Heather isn't looking forward to running into Veronica anytime soon so she sucked it up but definitely graded the essay's harsher than usual.

"There she is," Ram says fondly as she collapses into the seat across from him, "Fleming had you grading essay's again?"

"This round of second years are idiots. They make Herbology harder than it should be."

Ram's face turns white as he looks over her shoulder. "Uhm, cue angry step-brother in three—two—"

"Hess," JD growls in her ear.

Heather and JD wrestle per their usual Saturday routine. Every Saturday afternoon JD publicly scolds Heather for her reckless behavior at the game the previous night. "Get off me," Heather hisses, flailing her arms wildly.

"What the hell was that yesterday, huh?"

Heather goes to grab her wand, to throw a hex JD's way (a nasty one she's been practicing just for him), but Ram snatches it away. "Let her go JD. No fighting in the great hall," he knows how quickly a brawl can break out between these two. "Heather's already being punished. Leave it alone."

JD lets her go but doesn't drop his glare even as he sits beside her. "You could've died."

Heather fixes her stretched collar. "The fall wasn't what I was worried about, I was too busy trying to shield myself from the crazy guy attacking me from the stands."

JD simmers down a bit. "…they caught the asshole so don't worry. The ministry will take care of him. He better get the kiss for the stunt he pulled."

"What do you think he wanted?" Ram asks.

JD looks away with a grimace. "…Heather's always had a target on her back." He's likely thinking back to the death threats and outlandish stares Heather received as a child. Heather hated putting JD and Mr. Dean in the position where they had to move to a muggle neighborhood just to avoid the threat of vengeful death eaters. She didn't want them to live in fear because of her. That's why she needs to figure out what new entity was causing so much destruction.

"You're safe here," Ram tries to reassure them but it doesn't change the grim looks on their faces. "Dumbledore can protect you. Right?"

Heather curses to herself at the mention of Dumbledore. She was too busy projecting her anger on second-year essays that she forgot about her mission. She needed to find a way into his office so she could view the memories from Slughorn.

"Right," JD brings her back to reality. "…the asshole is being detained, there's nothing to worry about."

Ram laughs. "You seem more worked up about this than Heather. What's wrong? Did he ruin your plans?"

"I had everything ready too! I was going to ask her out right after the game. For real this time."

Ram doesn't look convinced. "Really? How about you do it right now then."

"W-what?"

"Veronica just walked in. Ask her out now, make new plans."

Heather looks away when Veronica tries to meet her eyes. Suddenly she isn't hungry anymore. "Where're you going, Hess?"

Heather tries to smile, "I forgot I've got a shit tone of work to do for potions. But I'll see you guys later?"

JD looks worried but knows when to give her space. "Alright, I'll see you tonight or something. Dad sent us a letter about coming home for summer break but I was waiting to read it with you."

"Sounds great," Heather shoulders her bag, "see ya." She swiftly moves from the hall to the bathroom and slips into an empty stall. Heather pulls out a small dose of Polyjuice she keeps on hand and a strand of hair she stole from Fleming earlier (not a total waste of time). She mixes the concoction and downs it in one go. Her hand hits the metal wall, startling the inhabitant next to her. Heather tries to hold back a grunt at the uncomfortable shift.

The stall beside her opens and a hesitant voice asks, "are you okay in there?"

"Fine," she spits out once it's all over. "Miss Dunnstock. Thank you for your concern but I'm feeling fine just a little bug."

Martha adjusts her glasses. "Miss Fleming! I'm so sorry—"

"No worries," Heather washes her hands and plays the part, "if you'll excuse me I have some second-year essays to grade." She makes it out of the bathroom to Dumbledore's office without incident. When she gets inside she acts quick; Dumbledore can be here any minute and this potion won't last long (she couldn't get enough hair from Fleming on such short notice). "Ah, good afternoon," she greets the portraits on the wall, "Headmaster hasn't been here recently has he?"

A few of the portraits shake their heads but don't speak.

"This doesn't make this any easier. There has been some possible new information about the assailant at the match last night. I have some tears that may shine some light on what happened. I would wait for Professor Dumbledore but this is urgent, our students may be at risk." Heather gestures to the pensive, "do you mind?"

One of the portraits say, "of course not, if the manner is urgent and he can't be found at the moment…"

"Thank you, this is a huge help." Heather holds a steady hand and drops some of the tears into the pensive; they fall into the water in black drops that reach out in random directions. Heather ducks her head in—

4

_Hogwarts, 1942_

_"I was in the library the other night, in the restricted section," Riddle walks towards Slughorn, "I read something rather odd about a bit of rare magic, it's called, as I understand it, a horcrux."_

_Slughorn looks faint. "I beg your pardon?"_

_"A horcrux, I came across the term while reading and I didn't fully understand it."_

_Slughorn frowns, "I'm not sure what you're reading Tom but this is very dark stuff."_

_"Which is why I came to you."_

_"…a horcrux is an object in which a person can seal part of their soul."_

_"But," Tom moves closer, "I don't understand how that works, sir."_

_"One takes their soul and splits part of it inside an object. By doing so you are protecting it should you be attacked and your body destroyed."_

_"Protect it."_

_"So that part of your soul that's hidden can live on." Slughorn says shakily, "in other words, you can not die."_

_Tom soaks in the information and turns to stare into the fire. "And how does one split his soul, sir?"_

_"I think you already know the answer to that Tom."_

_"Murder?"_

_"Yes. Killing rips the soul apart because it's a violation against nature."_

_Tom hums, "can you only split the soul once? For instance, seven?"_

_"Seven?" Slughorn splutters, "Merlin's beard Tom, isn't it bad enough to consider killing one person? But to rip the soul into seven pieces…this is all hypothetical isn't it Tom? All academic?"_

_Tom turns around, smiling, "of course sir, it'll be our little secret."_

5

Heather masks her expression and tries to keep her hands steady as she closes the vial. She smiles sullenly at the portraits, "just another perspective of the attack but not from the angle we need. Sorry to have wasted you time ladies, gentlemen. Enjoy the rest of your evening."

Heather swiftly exits the room and tries not to run through the halls. "Professor Fleming," she stops right at the corner and does a slow turn, "I thought you left after you session with Miss Chandler?"

"Headmaster," she says politely, "how are you?"

"Enjoying this lovely Saturday. But, it's strange of you to be here longer than necessary. I know you have tea with Hagrid around this time so I'm curious as to—"

"Professor, there you are." Veronica runs up beside her, "ah, hello Headmaster. Sorry to interrupt."

Dumbledore nods, "not a problem Miss Sawyer."

Veronica smiles at her, "you promised to meet me in the library to help me find a topic to write about for my charms essay, remember?"

"Yes. I was just on my way there when I got a little side tracked," Heather smiles at Dumbledore, "if you'll excuse us?"

"Of course. Don't let me get in the way of learning. Sorry to keep you."

Heather follows Veronica to the library. They're almost there when Veronica pulls them into a dark corridor. "What the—"

"I know it's you, Heather." She folds her arms and scowls up at her, "almost getting caught like that. You should at least know her schedule before you try to impersonate her."

Heather doesn't budge, "I don't know what you're—" on cue, the Polyjuice wares out, "shoot," she tugs on the oversized clothes.

"Come on," Veronica yanks her into an empty broom closet.

Heather snaps, "what the heck Veronica? Why did you drag me here, and how'd you know I was Fleming?"

Veronica looks afraid to say, "because I'm the reason you were able to see Slughorn's memories."

"How did you—"

"Who do you think created a distraction long enough for Dumbledore to stay away from his office? A fight between a couple second years broke out and kept him busy. Someone landed a hex and started the whole thing."

Heather draws her wand and steps forward until it's stabbing Veronica in the chest. "And how did you know I was in there to see Slughorn's memories?" For all she knows, the shadow could be possessing Veronica.

Veronica looks away. "I never left this morning…I was going to leave but I was curious—but more worried! I'm sorry, but, I couldn't let you do this alone."

Heather suddenly feels tired. She lowers her wand in favor of running a hand through her wild locks.

"I don't need help—"

"You do—"

Heather snaps. "Not from you. Anybody but you."

Veronica looks like she's been slapped. "Why's that? Because I'm just a dirty mudblood who isn't good enough for—"

"No," Heather frowns, "because I care about you, idiot. If you hang around me it'll just put you in more danger, Veronica, trust me, this goes deeper than we could've imagined."

Veronica asks, "what did you see? In his memories."

Heather shakes her head.

"I can help!" Veronica begs, "let me help you."

"…horcruxes," she whispers after a moment of contemplation, "Riddle was a student of Slughorn's and during his sixth year he asked about them. Basically someone can split their soul apart into an object by killing someone, if protected correctly they could live forever. Riddle asked if a soul could be split apart seven times."

Veronica gasps, "seven?"

"They said my parents died killing him, they protected me from him that's why I have this scar," she rubs the mark on her head, it burns, as if it knows she's talking about it. "If they knew about the horcruxes and destroyed them that can be the reason he went after them."

"You don't think they got them all?"

Heather shrugs, "seven is a lot…maybe the shadow is after me because I have the other horcrux somewhere, a locket or something. Riddle can be revived if dark magic is bred into the object. Then there's no stopping him from making all the horcruxes he wants. He'd be unstoppable."

Veronica hugs herself, "then what do we do?"

"Look for the horcrux before the shadow gets to it. Then destroy it."

Veronica grabs her hand, "we look for it you mean. I'm with you."

Heather pulls away. "I don't want that."

"In which way?"

"Both." Heather forces herself to say, "it was a mistake."

Veronica's face twists, "you really think that?"

Heather rubs her face with a groan. "No, of course not, I'm sorry. But it's still wrong—"

"How?"

"My brother adores you. He has since forever and he was supposed to ask you out at the game but I ruined everything with that stupid shadow. I betrayed him."

"JD?" Veronica shakes her head, "even if he would've asked the answer would be the same. He's not the one I want. You know that, and this isn't wrong. What we have, what we've always had, is real. You know me and I know you." She laces their hands together and drops her forehead to Heather's.

"Veronica," she pulls away when their noses brush, "I can't do this to my brother, not again. I've already torn his life apart once and I won't do it twice. And you're staying away from this—"

"You need me." Veronica says when Heather tries to leave, "I'm the only one who can see the shadow."

"I don't want you to get hurt."

"You're hurting me now. Just, let me decide for myself. I'll just keep an eye out. I won't even get involved with any of the espionage stuff. I already know about the horcruxes."

Heather yields, "fine. But I'm serious, I don't want you putting yourself in danger. Just tell me if anything is out of the ordinary. And we don't involve Duke and Mac until we have solid evidence on this thing."

Veronica's smile blinds her. "Yes! I won't let you down."

"Deal?" Heather holds out her hand because she doesn't trust her smile alone.

"Deal."

Veronica takes her hand and uses it to pull her in for a kiss. Heather is ashamed when she lets it last longer than it should but prides herself on being the first to pull away. "I said—"

"I'm just making our deal official." Veronica looks far too innocent.

"This can't happen again so just respect my choice, okay? And send my cloak back whenever you get a chance," Heather grabs the door knob but stops one more time, "and thanks for having my back with Dumbledore."

"Before you go, can I ask you something?"

Heather looks over her shoulder. "Within reason. Go ahead."

"Fourth year, I don't know if you remember this but…I got into a fight with Kurt trying to protect Martha. He was calling her names and I couldn't really stand back and let him do it. I'd been working on this hex and I was way too confident and didn't think he'd be smart enough to put up a shield. It bounced off and hit me, gave me—"

"Antlers," Heather finishes, "yeah I remember."

Veronica smiles. "I bumped into you by the windowsill, perfect view of the courtyard. That day…were you watching me?"

Heather rolls her eyes. "I watched you lose against Kurt's crew like every other time."

"You were watching me. And when I bumped into you, usually you would yell, or threaten me, but you just picked up your book and didn't say anything. Why's that?"

Heather shrugs. "You were already stuck with those antlers for the rest of the day, with a crippled pride, so I just didn't think it was necessary to add fuel to the fire. No biggie."

"And all the times you watched me fight likely to lose, what'd you think?"

"I thought you were an idiot." Heather deadpans.

Veronica steps closer. "And when I won?"

Heather blindly twists the door knob to slip out. "Don't forget to return my cloak."

"I think you were happy. When I won." Veronica leans against the doorframe with a smug grin, "it makes since, right? No one watches something repeatedly when they're sure of the outcome every time."

"You're thinking about this too much—"

"You smiled," she says softly, "when I punched Kurt fourth year and sent him running I saw you. There was a crowd around me, praising me, but I saw you sitting on the brick with Mac and Duke. They were shocked, wondering what had happened, but you were smiling."

Heather remembers but doesn't dare give Veronica the pleasure in knowing she's right. "I'll see you in class, Sawyer."

Heather doesn't want to think too much into just how much attention Veronica's been giving her over the years. How well she must know her. Heather shakes her head. It can't happen. Family comes first.


End file.
